


Just Gotta Power Through It

by Emme2589



Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [6]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Family Loss, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Post-Henry Stickmin Series: Completing the Mission, Romance, Special BROvert Ops Ending | SBO (Henry Stickmin), Trauma, Vomiting, i am once again apologizing for everything ive ever done, the boys go on a cute date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emme2589/pseuds/Emme2589
Summary: Charles is good at comforting Henry. Now it's time for Henry to return the favor.
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011435
Comments: 11
Kudos: 125





	Just Gotta Power Through It

**Author's Note:**

> Just to give a heads-up this time; This story contains someone helping to force another person to vomit. It's not related to eating disorders or body dysmorphia, but I thought I'd give a warning anyway just in case it's a trigger for anyone.

Charles awoke that morning completely against his will.

He stared up at the ceiling, which was covered in plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. His eyes were crusty, his face still coated with dried tear tracks. His chest wheezed, unable to take a full breath of air unless he wanted his heart to shoot more needle-sharp pain up his spine.

He slowly sat up, swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed. He swayed with dizziness, groaning as he rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. He really didn't want to go anywhere today, but he promised Henry he'd pick him up from evaluations today.

He really _really_ didn't want to. Even now, he could feel fresh tears in his eyes.

Once his head stopped spinning, he stood from the bed to trudge to the bathroom. He didn't usually shower right before work, but he felt he really needed it now. He could have used the communal showers on base, which have individual doors you can lock between showerheads, but he didn't want anyone to see him like this. He'd woken up late today, so the showers were probably full anyway. Instead, he decided to use the shower in the bathroom attached to his military apartment. He stood outside the shower as he turned it on, knowing the water was always too cold at first, as he kicked off his pajamas, taking a huge breath of air and focusing on the feeling of his lungs being full.

Charles took extra long in the shower this time, holding his head under the stream and scrubbing the tear tracks away. Once he was all clean, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his shoulders, feeling cold now that he was beyond the confines of the foggy glass. He shifted the towel to free his arms, tucking it in itself around his waist as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Yeesh. He looked absolutely miserable. The tragedy of yesterday was just weighing so heavy on him, it was near impossible to smile.

 _Come on. Life doesn't stop because one star goes out._ Charles glared at his reflection, _It keeps going, and so will you. You're stronger than this. You can get through it._

It didn't work. He still felt like a zombie.

God, okay, he could do this. Instead of just bullying himself into a pep talk, Charles cast his thoughts to Henry. If Henry succeeded in his evals, Charles wanted to celebrate with him. He had been excited for it, too. Henry was a quiet man, only using his voice when it was absolutely necessary, but he had still charmed everyone on base into vouching for him. Other things in his favor were his spotless track record since his pardon, his history of good health, his courage and loyalty to his teammates, and his strong sense of leadership.

Well, okay, Henry did still steal things _sometimes._ He had an instinct for hoarding shiny things after all. That didn't go away just because he was a good guy now, but he usually only stole from people he knew wouldn't take it personally, and they were always small. For example, when Charles was in Galeforce's office the other day, the general had realized there were no pens in his office, even though he bought pens at a rapid-fire pace since he was prone to losing them. They weren't cheap plastic pens either, these pens were a bit nicer, with a glass cap and stainless steel holding the ink in place. Most importantly, the barrel of the pens had a shimmer to them, which was more than enough for Henry to want them. He got quite an earful about stealing the pens, and from then on, he was a lot more careful about how many things he took from places.

Charles caught his own smile in the mirror as he recalled the event. Henry just had that effect on him. Every single time he reached into his pockets and realized his keys were missing, only for Henry to wave them in his face a second later, he just couldn't stay mad, even though he probably should. He _tried_ to scold Henry about his sticky fingers, but Henry had just smiled and said, _"You love me."_

Well, it was true, but that didn't mean theft was okay!

It was working! Charles almost felt like himself again, his usual smile lifting the dark circles under his eyes until they were harder to see. He still had that ache in his heart, but he was sure he could handle things now.

Once he left the bathroom, he dressed in his usual white shirt, bomber jacket, blue jeans and red sneakers. He quickly tied his laces before taking his headset off its charger and heading out, making sure he had his keys before going outside towards base, where his helicopter was parked on the roof.

_Alright, Henry. Let's see how you did._

***

Henry stood behind the safety line of the helipad, but Charles could see him as he waved his arms in the air. As soon as the rotary blades had stopped spinning, Henry was sprinting to the helicopter, almost getting to it in time to open the door himself, but Charles met him on the ground beside it instead.

"Henry!" Charles lifted his hand, and Henry grasped it tightly in his own, "Hey, man! How did evals go?"

Henry gave a thumbs up, a wide grin on his face.

"Awesome!" Charles gave him a pat on the back, "You remembered to bring a pen, right?"

Henry rolled his eyes, lolling his head as if in exhaustion.

"Haha! Yeah, I'm never letting you live that down." Charles laughed, "Okay, _soldier._ Where are we going to celebrate?"

Henry thought for a moment, a hand over his mouth. Charles was getting better at sign, and though he still wasn't fluent, he knew the alphabet, and Henry was a damn fast finger speller.

"Tiffany and Tim's? The breakfast joint on Wreckage Boulevard?"

Henry nodded.

"Alright, but remember to lay off the sweets this time. I'm not dragging your ass back home on foot because you have a stomach ache."

Henry elbowed him, murmuring, "Why? You _could."_

"Yeah, I _could."_ Charles flexed his bicep, smoothing the fabric out over it, "But you forget that sometimes, I get tired too."

Henry grew flustered at the sight of Charles' muscles, which was exactly his goal. He didn't protest after that.

Once they arrived, they took their usual table in front of the big picture window. The hostess here was fluent in sign, which was one of the reasons they'd come back multiple times. Henry made a sign that Charles didn't recognize, but it made the hostess lift an eyebrow as she left.

"Henry, what sign was that?"

Henry put a finger to his lips.

"Okay, fine, but you better not have ordered for me."

He shook his head, so Charles picked up the menu. They hadn't been here too many times, but Charles had an idea of what he wanted, so by the time the hostess came back, he had already set it down.

"Okay, Henry. Don't order too much food. You _always_ overestimate how much you can eat. I'm not paying for mountains of eggs and bacon that you won't eat."

Henry smiled gleefully, "You're not my babysitter."

"Fine. I'm still not paying for food you don't eat."

Henry rolled his eyes again.

"Oh sure. You keep rolling your eyes, and maybe you'll find a brain back there."

Henry snorted, "Listen, chopper, I do what I want. How about this; You pay if I finish my meal. Otherwise, I pay."

"I'm fine with that. Hope you like the taste of defeat, gem snatcher."

The hostess set two bottles on the table before taking their orders and heading back to the kitchen.

"Wait." Charles recognized the bottle, grabbing it before Henry had a chance to open it, "Henry, we're in a breakfast diner at five pm! We can't drink now!"

Henry shot him an innocent smile, "Why not? You said no sweets, right?"

Charles sighed long and slow. Henry had a history of bad hangovers, and yet he still insisted on drinking as a celebration for almost everything.

"You know what? It's a wonder you haven't killed yourself yet." Charles handed him the bottle, "Fine. Let's get tipsy. We can always take a cab home."

They clinked their bottles before taking a swing together. If Charles was being honest, he wasn't much of a beer person. He prefered wine or jello shots. Beer just tasted wrong to him. Still, he was grateful Henry had decided on something with low alcohol content. He didn't want to be totally drunk by the end of the evening.

Their food arrived, and Charles let out a breath upon seeing his partner's plate. It was stacked with pancakes, eggs, and bacon, but it was a relatively small plate. As for him, he had just ordered an omelette with bell peppers and cheese. He wasn't particularly hungry.

"Just remember." Henry poured a syrup packet over his pancakes, "You made me get less."

"If you can seriously eat all of that food, I will personally order more for you. And I'll pay for it."

"Works for me." Henry took a bite, and the evening began.

To Henry's credit, he did get close, but there was still some soggy pancake and scrambled eggs left behind that he just couldn't finish off. He set aside his empty bottle of beer, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he miserably unbuttoned his pants to take pressure off his stomach.

_"Charles..."_

_"Please_ don't tell me you feel too sick to ride in a car."

_"No, I'm just mad that I have to pay now..."_

Charles laughed in response. For his part, he had completely finished his own meal, even licking up the stray peppers and cheese sauce from his plate, and he revelled in the feeling of being cozy and full.

He reached over the table to touch Henry's cheek, which was flushed from being drunk, "I just hope you didn't steal the money you're paying with."

"Oh, shut up."

Charles did feel a little bad about the situation he'd put him in, so he paid for the cab ride. Once on base, Henry leaned on Charles for balance, the alcohol and the ache in his stomach making him woozy. Charles fumbled for his keys, unlocking the apartment before guiding Henry to the bed and letting him lay down.

That was when he got a glance out the window. The sky was completely white, and there was frost clinging to the glass. It looked like it was going to snow.

Charles gagged as his heart slammed against his ribcage. He shut his eyes, trying to steady his lungs. Trying to breathe.

He had nearly forgotten. He was so happy to be with Henry that the grief had nearly disappeared, but now that it was back, it hurt so much worse than before.

Henry blearily blinked up at him as he leaned against the bed for balance, "Charles? What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Charles forced a smile, "Oh, nothing, Hen. I'm fine. You just rest, yeah? You can't even hold yourself up."

He cursed his voice for shaking. The alcohol was messing with him, blurring his vision at the edges and making it hard to stay upright. The fuzzy euphoria dampened his grief, but it wasn't enough. He wished he'd drunk more.

Henry sat up, his eyes surprisingly focused despite his inebriated state, "You don't have to lie, Charles. You just looked like you were about to be sick. Do you wanna talk about it?"

Charles tried to keep up the façade. Tried to focus on Henry's half-lidded eyes. His slightly parted pink lips. His flushed face, raw and red from when he'd downed his drink. He was so cute, and handsome, and beautiful, and...

And it _wasn't enough..._

The tears fell down before he could stop them. His plastic smile cracked, replaced with a wince. A pained grimace. The tears fell down faster and faster, until Charles got a sense that he was falling, gaining tunnel vision, swaying on his feet as his heart went numb. His fingertips felt detached. Cold and distant.

"Charles?"

Crap. Henry looked really worried now.

"Charles, you need to breathe, okay?" Henry gently guided him to the bed, "It's okay. Hey, look at me. You'll be okay."

Charles collapsed onto his side on the mattress, his legs hanging out towards the floor. He could not stop shaking. He dug his fists into the blanket to try and still them, but it didn't help at all.

"Charles." Henry said more firmly, "Just let yourself cry. Holding in your feelings will only make it worse. Trust me, I know."

"B-b-but I...no..." Charles touched his face, realizing just how damp it was, "I can't. I need to..."

"Hey." Henry held Charles' head in his arm, "Listen to me, okay? You don't need to hide this from me. Please. You trust me, don't you?"

Charles sat up to wrap his arms around Henry's neck, _"Henry...I..."_

Henry swept him up into his lap, seated on the edge of the mattress, and gave him a huge hug. Charles let loose a sob, burying his face into the crook of Henry's neck.

 _"H-H-Henry..."_ Charles crumpled in his arms, _"It's terrible. It feels like my heart is trying to kill itself! I can't believe it! I won't! Everyone must have lied to me!"_

"Charles, what do you mean? What happened?"

Charles remembered the frost. Soon, it would snow. Soon, this would hurt even worse.

 _"Henry."_ Charles' voice had softened considerably as he burrowed further into the warmth of Henry's embrace...

_"My dad died."_

Saying it out loud hurt so much worse. He broke down into relentless sobbing as Henry squeezed him hard.

 _"Two days ago."_ he continued between sobs, _"My mom called me crying as soon as she found out. I flew over there as fast as I could. I thought maybe she was mistaken. I thought it couldn't be too late, but it was. He was already gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye."_

Henry began to rock back and forth, and Charles just kept rambling, the sobs ripping out of him like an erupting volcano.

_"He was cold. I don't know how long I cried for. They took him out of the house in a body bag. There was no life in him. I called out to him, but he didn't answer. I tried to keep the warmth in him, but he just kept getting colder. He looked so wrong like that. I hate this. I want him back. I want my dad."_

"Charles..." Henry stroked the back of his head, "Charles, I'm so sorry. I know how much you love your dad. I'm _sorry."_

Henry had met Charles' dad a few times. He was just as charmed by him as he was by Charles himself. He even admitted to being a little envious, because his own father was terrible to him, and as soon as he'd said that, Mr. Calvin had immediately adopted him as an honorary son. Charles was thrilled at the time that they got along so well, and that Henry felt at home with his family.

Of course...nothing would come of that now.

Charles had calmed a little bit, so he lifted his head to meet Henry's gaze, still a little off from his drunken state.

"I want to drink more."

Henry shook his head, "Don't. I know, it'll feel better in the moment, but when it wears off, you'll feel so much worse. You just need to feel that grief. Power through it, you know?"

"But I don't want to feel this!"

"I know you don't, but you have to." Henry turned to lay him down on the bed, "Just accept it. It'll get easier. I'll be with you the whole way through."

"But I can't..."

"Yes you can." Henry huddled into his side, pulling the covers up over him, "You can't ignore something like this. If you do, it isn't going to just go away. The sooner you grieve, the sooner it'll stop hurting so much."

Charles' chest rattled as he tried to catch his breath. Henry lay his head on his chest, and the weight helped him take deeper breaths.

The sun was setting, and pretty soon, snow was sticking to the windows, fogging up the glass as the world outside paled despite the coziness of their little cocoon indoors.

Charles used to be too small to roll giant snowballs, so when he made snowmen with his dad, he would take over making the body while Charles made the head. He also got to stick the carrot in the snowman's face for a nose, and the two bits of coal for the eyes.

He wondered if Henry would want to make a snowman with him. The thought made him smile.

His hand found the back of Henry's shirt, squeezing it in his fist until the fabric pooled between his fingers. He held Henry closer, right above his aching heart, which was relentlessly pounding like it was struggling to get out of its cage.

"Henry?"

"Hm?"

"Sorry. Just wanted to see if you were asleep."

"I was close." Henry had drooled a little, his breath smelling like the offending beer, "Do you want me to stay up with you?"

"Um, you don't have to. If you're really tired..."

"No, it's fine." Henry wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "You need someone right now, huh? Grief is never fun alone."

"You're drunk off your ass, Hen. I'm not sure how much comfort you can provide."

"Well, jeez. I feel so loved right now."

"Henry, shut up!"

Henry sloppily kissed him, and Charles' heartbeat began to slow as it calmed.

***

Charles woke up to the sound of retching in the bathroom. If he had to hazard a guess, Henry was hungover, and it was a consequence of his own actions, like always.

He looked out the window. It had indeed snowed the previous night, and it made the pain return in earnest.

He felt his stomach lurch, and he bolted to the bathroom, leaning over the sink as his esophagus constricted. Nothing came up, though. In fact, his stomach felt painfully empty.

His hands were cold as they shook on the sink, his sweaty palms slipping on the smooth porcelain. He retched, but all that escaped his throat was a choked sob.

"Charles?"

He turned automatically upon hearing his name. Henry was done throwing up, and he was now looking up at Charles' from his place in front of the toilet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Charles watched his tears fall into the sink. He retched again, and though his chest burned, still, nothing came up.

 _"S-s-sorry..."_ Charles struggled to stay on his feet, _"Sorry...I'm sorry..."_

"Don't apologize." Henry quickly stood to hug him from behind, his chin resting on his shoulder, "Don't you dare apologize for being in pain. You just lost your dad, Charles. Of course you're in a bad state. Don't apologize for being sad, _please."_

Charles heaved, coughing up a mouthful of saliva. It splashed into the sink, dripping from his chin, and the sight of it made him dry heave ever more violently.

 _"H-H-Henry...I can't..."_ another retch, _"...I-I need to, but I can't!"_

"Here, pick up your toothbrush." Henry urgently handed the red toothbrush to him, "Jam the handle into your throat. It'll trigger your gag reflex."

Charles obeyed, shoving the toothbrush into the back of his throat until nearly the whole thing disappeared into his mouth. He gagged, retching a little more forcefully. The burning was coming up, but it _wasn't enough!_

Henry grabbed the end of the toothbrush to stop Charles from accidentally swallowing the thing, and as the contents of his stomach got closer and closer to freedom, Charles could feel his relief building. Finally, his stomach gave one last massive heave and he vomited into the sink. He dropped the toothbrush as he slipped on the tile floor, but Henry caught him before he could hit his head on anything. Charles coughed, his vision fuzzy as he struggled to breath between retches, and when his stomach was finally empty, he just stayed still for a bit, afraid that any movement could throw him down onto the floor.

Finally, he'd caught his breath, and he straightened up, taking a huge deep breath to calm himself.

He'd thrown up so violently that the counter and the mirror were caught in the crossfire. Most of it was omelette, but there was plenty of acid and the dreaded diner beer.

It was another moment or so when he began to process the soft kisses being placed on the back of his neck. It soothed him, even though his brain was too frazzled to process who was kissing him. Once he did, he found himself leaning into the affection, and the stream of kisses switched to his ear and then his jaw.

"Oh, um..." Henry backed off slowly, making sure Charles could hold himself off, "Sorry about your toothbrush."

The toothbrush had fallen into the sink, completely covered in bile.

"'s okay." Charles turned on the sink, cupping his hands under the water and pouring it into his mouth to swish around and spit out, rinsing his face off while he was at it.

"Here. I'll clean up." Henry pushed Charles towards the door.

"No, no, Henry." Charles tried to fight it, "You're hungover. I can't make you-!"

"Oh, I'm fine." Henry pushed him again, more insistent this time, "Don't even worry about it. Go lay down, okay?"

Well, it seemed he wasn't backing down, so Charles headed to the bedroom and climbed back under the covers.

It was about three minutes later when Charles heard Henry's voice on the phone, "Yeah, General? Charles can't come into work today."

_"Say no more, Henry. I heard from Abigail."_

Charles swallowed, a rock in his hollow stomach. He stared at the wall until his retinas adjusted and keeping his eyes open became meaningless.

"Abigail?"

_"Charles' mother."_

"Ah. Yeah. So you know what happened?"

_"Yes. Heart attack. He smoked like a chimney, so I'm not surprised, but damn, it still hurts. I'm taking at least a day off myself. Charles' father was my best friend."_

"Oh. I'm so sorry. I feel kinda bad I didn't know him too well."

_"He liked you, Henry. I guarantee, he was honored to have you in his family. Frank had a good life, though. I'm sure he'll rest easy."_

"I hope so. Well, I've got a boyfriend to comfort, so I'll see you later."

_"Goodbye."_

Charles wasn't sure when he'd started dissociating, but he didn't snap out of it until he felt the mattress dip. Henry climbed under the covers behind him, wrapping both arms around him and effectively spooning him. Usually, Henry insisted on being the little spoon, and now Charles knew why. It felt nice to have someone holding him like this, and Henry was slightly taller than him, so it worked out pretty well. Henry wrapped a leg around Charles' thigh, his chest against his back, and his lips grazed the back of his head.

He could fall asleep right here.

"Henry?"

"Yep?"

Charles turned slightly towards him, "How'd you know about the trick with the toothbrush?"

"Oh. That." Henry kissed his cheek, "I had comrades who did it when they thought they'd been poisoned. It works pretty well? I mean, depending on how you were poisoned."

Charles began to feel sick again, "You were poisoned...?"

"Oh no, not me. I never had to use the trick. Although, to be fair, I only saw it done twice. I still remember it, though. And hey, it helped you."

It wasn't the worst thing Henry had told him about his past, but it made his blood curl anyway. Why had Henry needed to worry about being poisoned? Was it from trying to eat certain kinds of rotten food? Or did he have enemies by that point?

Still. As Charles began to relax into Henry's embrace, his head and neck being showered in kisses, his heart still hurt so badly, his stomach in knots at the knowledge that he'd never see his father again. Not in this life.

But his body was warm and cozy, held so sweetly in the arms of his beloved. Henry couldn't just delete this grief, not really, but he could make it a little easier. Make it a slightly lighter cross to bear.

Charles smiled as he drifted off, and he had a dream about his father, bouncing a younger Charles on his knee as he told stories of grandeur, and gave him one last hug goodbye.

***


End file.
